That was the first thing anyone ever noticed when they were out past the hours they were meant to be tucked away in their dormitories—Hogwarts did not sleep so much as it settled. The corridors exhaled cold air through ancient stone. The torches guttered lower, shadows stretching longer, deeper, more watchful. Portraits murmured amongst themselves in half-dreaming tones. Armour shifted on their stands with the slow complaint of metal against metal.
It was the kind of night that made bad ideas feel inevitable.
“I still think,” Remus Lupin whispered, voice thin with restraint as he peered down the corridor, “that this is an exceptionally poor plan.”
Sirius Black did not even look back at him.
“That’s because you’re boring,” he murmured, crouched low by the wall as he worked at something suspiciously complex with his wand. His hair kept falling into his eyes; he kept blowing it out of his face in quick, impatient bursts. “And also because you lack vision.”
“I have vision,” Remus said, affronted. “I just use it to avoid detentions.”
James Potter, sprawled flat on his stomach beside Sirius, grinned lazily. “Detention builds character.”
“You already have too much character,” Remus shot back.
Peter Pettigrew hovered nervously behind them, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure Filch isn’t—”
“He’s not,” Sirius and James said in perfect unison.
Peter swallowed.
“That didn’t make me feel better.”
Sirius finally leaned back on his heels, inspecting whatever he’d been fiddling with. A faint shimmer of magic clung to the floor—something subtle, something waiting.
“Right,” he said, pleased. “That’s stage one.”
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly does stage one do?”
James lit up immediately. “Oh, it’s brilliant. When anyone steps here—”
“—their shoes start screaming,” Sirius finished.
There was a pause.
Remus blinked.
“I’m sorry,” he said carefully. “Their shoes—”
“Scream,” Sirius repeated, delighted.
Peter let out a strangled noise somewhere between horror and awe.
Remus stared at the floor. “Why.”
“Because,” James said, like it was obvious, “it sets the tone.”
“The tone,” Remus echoed.
“Yes,” Sirius said. “Which is followed by stage two—”
A voice cut cleanly through the corridor.
“And what, exactly, is stage two?”
Everything stopped.
Not gradually.
Not slowly.
Instantly.
Four heads turned.
Regulus Black stood at the far end of the corridor, framed in torchlight.
Prefect badge glinting.
Arms folded.
Expression flat.
He looked like he had been carved out of the same stone as the castle—sharp edges, pale lines, dark eyes that missed nothing.
Sirius froze.
“...hi,” he said weakly.
Regulus raised one eyebrow.
James scrambled upright so fast he nearly tripped over Sirius. “Regulus! Fancy seeing you here! Late night! Lovely weather for it!”
“We’re indoors,” Regulus said.
“Metaphorically,” James replied.
Peter nodded vigorously. “Very metaphorical weather.”
Remus sighed quietly into his hands.
Regulus’s gaze slid across the four of them. Took in the crouched positions. The faint shimmer of magic on the floor. Sirius’s wand still in his hand.
“You’re out after curfew,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
“No,” Sirius said immediately.
“Yes,” Remus said at the exact same time.
Sirius whipped around. “Traitor—”
“You’re literally caught,” Remus hissed.
James stepped forward quickly, hands raised in what he clearly thought was a charming, disarming gesture. “Now, Regulus, let’s not be hasty—”
“I’m not being hasty,” Regulus said. “I’m being observant.”
Peter made a small, panicked noise.
Sirius stood up slowly, brushing off his robes like that might somehow restore dignity to the situation.
“Reggie,” he said, voice slipping instinctively into something smoother, softer, coaxing. “Come on.”
Regulus’s eyes flicked to him.
Cold.
“Don’t,” he said.
Sirius ignored that entirely and stepped closer anyway. “You’re not actually going to report us, are you?”
“Yes.”
Immediate. Flat.
James gasped like he’d been personally betrayed. “That’s brutal.”
“Rules exist,” Regulus said.
“You break rules,” Sirius said.
“I break useful rules,” Regulus replied. “This is idiocy.”
Peter made another distressed sound.
Remus, ever the realist, said, “We could just… dismantle it and go back to bed.”
Sirius rounded on him. “Absolutely not.”
Then, back to Regulus, softer again, coaxing.
“Reg,” he said, “be reasonable.”
“I am,” Regulus said.
James tried a different approach—he stepped in beside Sirius, slinging an arm casually over his shoulder like they were all old friends sharing a joke.
“Look,” he said, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “we can offer you… incentives.”
Regulus stared at him.
“Incentives,” he repeated.
“Yes,” James said brightly. “Anything you want.”
There was a pause.
Regulus’s gaze slid slowly, deliberately, over all four of them again.
“You have nothing I want.”
Peter looked deeply offended by that, for some reason.
Sirius huffed. “Rude.”
Remus said, very quietly, “He’s right.”
James leaned in further, undeterred. “Come on, there must be something.”
Regulus looked unimpressed.
Sirius, desperate now, said, “I’ll do your chores for a week.”
James snapped his fingers. “I’ll stop asking Lily out.”
Remus choked.
Regulus looked faintly more interested.
“For how long?” he asked.
James hesitated.
“…a week?”
Regulus’s interest vanished.
“Useless,” he said.
Peter whispered, “We’re going to die.”
Sirius dragged a hand through his hair, frustrated. “What do you want then?”
Regulus didn’t answer immediately.
He looked at Sirius for a moment longer than necessary.
Then, with a quiet, irritated exhale, he rolled his eyes.
“Fine,” he said.
Silence.
James blinked. “Fine?”
“I won’t report you,” Regulus said, already sounding tired of his own decision. “If you stop wasting my time.”
They all stared at him.
Peter lit up like a lantern. “Really?”
“Yes.”
James whooped—quietly, but with enthusiasm.
Remus sagged with relief.
Sirius grinned.
“See?” he said, nudging James. “Told you he loved me.”
“I don’t,” Regulus said.
“Deeply, though,” Sirius continued.
Regulus looked like he was reconsidering his entire life.
James clapped his hands together. “Brilliant! Right, then—you’re coming with us.”
Regulus blinked.
“I’m what.”
“You’re coming with us,” James repeated, already grabbing his arm. “We need help.”
“I agreed not to report you,” Regulus said, resisting. “Not to participate.”
“Same thing,” Sirius said.
“It is not remotely the same thing.”
They were already dragging him.
Regulus dug his heels in for approximately three seconds before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.
“What do you need,” he said flatly.
“A potion,” James said.
Regulus stopped walking.
“No.”
Sirius groaned. “Oh, come on—”
“I don’t do potions,” Regulus said. “I don’t go to those lessons.”
Remus frowned. “You don’t—?”
“Slughorn is insufferable,” Regulus said. “And he keeps trying to recruit me for that ridiculous club of his. He knocks on my dorm door.”
Sirius snorted. “That’s because you’re his favourite.”
“He is not my anything,” Regulus snapped. “And I am not going back.”
James looked devastated. “We need the potion.”
“We cannot do the prank without the potion,” Peter added miserably.
Remus nodded. “It’s the core mechanism.”
Sirius pointed accusingly at the universe. “This is tragic.”
There was a beat.
Then James’s face changed.
Slowly.
Brightening.
“Oh,” he said.
Sirius narrowed his eyes. “Oh no.”
“Oh, I’ve got it,” James said, grin spreading.
Remus immediately looked concerned. “That expression is never good.”
“Snape,” James said.
Silence.
Then—
Sirius lit up. “Oh, that’s evil.”
Peter looked uncertain. “He’ll say no.”
“We won’t give him the option,” Sirius said.
Remus sighed. “We are not bullying Snape into doing our work.”
“We absolutely are,” James said.
Regulus groaned. “I am not involved in this.”
“Yes you are,” Sirius said, grabbing his sleeve again.
“I am not—”
They were already moving.
The library at night was a different place.
Quieter.
Heavier.
The kind of silence that pressed in rather than settled.
They found him exactly where James had predicted.
Severus Snape sat tucked into a far corner between towering shelves, hunched over a book, candlelight flickering against his pale face. He looked up as they approached, eyes narrowing immediately.
“Black,” he said, voice like something dragged over stone.
“S’pose,” Sirius said cheerfully.
Snape’s gaze flicked across the group.
Potter.
Lupin.
Pettigrew.
Then—
It stopped.
On Regulus.
For a moment—just a moment—everything about him changed.
Then it snapped back.
“What do you want,” Snape said.
“Your talents,” James said.
“No,” Snape replied instantly.
Sirius stepped forward. “We need a potion—”
“No.”
Remus tried diplomacy. “It would be greatly appreciated—”
“No.”
Peter hovered. “Please?”
“No.”
They all started talking at once.
“You owe us—”
“I do not—”
“Just do it—”
“Absolutely not—”
“It’s simple—”
“I am not your servant—”
Voices overlapping, rising, snapping against each other in sharp, irritated bursts.
Snape stood, expression darkening.
“I am not helping you,” he said, louder now. “Find someone else to—”
“Severus.”
Everything stopped.
Regulus stepped forward.
He didn’t raise his voice.
Didn’t change his tone.
Just—
“Please.”
That was all.
Snape froze.
Completely.
It was almost visible—the moment it hit him.
His shoulders straightened.
His expression flickered.
Then—
He went red.
Very red.
He coughed, abruptly, like he’d swallowed his own spine.
“Of—of course,” he said, suddenly. “If—if you require assistance, I—yes.”
Sirius stared.
James’s jaw dropped.
Peter looked like he might faint.
Remus blinked slowly, processing.
Snape was already moving, gathering things, muttering to himself, trying to look composed and failing spectacularly.
“What potion,” he asked, too quickly.
Sirius leaned toward James. “Is he—”
“Shut up,” James whispered, eyes wide.
Regulus stepped back, expression unchanged, like he hadn’t just detonated something.
Trying to think of a new prank to pull on my bro....
....so last Christmas I prank my brother. It was beautiful and I have to say, my best prank to date. I always get him a game or dvd and a pack of jelly beans for Christmas. So last year I got him a dvd of a film he wanted and I made him a jelly bean mix jar.........with a difference. I mixed a pack of summer blast, sour and normal jelly beans then I added a pack of tabisco jelly beans to it. Now the tabisco ones look just like the cherry ones and only me, my dad and my mum knew of my evil plan. To say the least my brother relation was beautiful. So now I'm racking my brain on what to do this year. Help!?
